


The Many and Varied Amorous Connections of Alexander Hamilton:  Statesman, Hero, Lover

by Ann_Drist



Series: And Believe Me, I am a Lover in Earnest [1]
Category: Alexander Hamilton - Ron Chernow, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Comedy, F/M, Farce, Fluff, Innuendo, Laurens lives, M/M, More inspired by the biography than the characters in the musical, Romance, Romantic Comedy, after the war, marital infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 13:56:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8919757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ann_Drist/pseuds/Ann_Drist
Summary: "Only you would be vain enough to assume future generations would care about your tawdry dalliances.""You forget all the portraits I've had made. I've no doubt there would be a keen interest."





	

Alexander Hamilton’s desk was cluttered as usual. He sat hunched over stacks of papers in disarray. His hand moved rapidly across the page. 

A knock on the open door didn’t break his concentration. It wasn’t until his visitor spoke that Hamilton looked up. 

“What is it you’re working on this time? Not another original form of government, I hope.” 

Hamilton flushed. “I still think it was a good idea.” 

John Laurens leaned over his desk. “You always were precocious, Alex.” He dropped a kiss on his forehead. 

Hamilton rolled his eyes and covered the pages with a blank sheet. 

“Government-related?” 

“Not exactly. More of a personal nature. Just considering publishing a memoir about … certain persons I’ve had the privilege to entertain a close rapport with, a _bonhomie_ , if you will, an _éspírìt d’_ —”

“You mean sexcapades.” 

Hamilton put down his quill. “Must you be so crude, Laurens.” 

“That’s a terrible idea.” 

“Well, I haven’t decided whether to publish or not, but I’m making a record of them either way. Imagine, John, if history only remembers me as a dashing war hero and the founder of modern finance. Impressive achievements, to be sure, but how _dry_ , and in isolation they speak very little to my character.” 

“Only you would be vain enough to assume future generations would care about your tawdry dalliances.” 

“You forget all the portraits I’ve had made. I’ve no doubt there would be keen interest.” 

Laurens rolled his eyes, then frowned and gave the papers a closer look. “Wait. I’m not in here, am I?” 

“Heavens, no. This is only concerning my liaisons with the fairer sex. Everything having to do with men is left out.” 

“Everything? Was there a lot to write about?” 

Hamilton cleared his throat. “Well.” 

“Alex. I’m curious. How many others have there been?” 

“John. A gentleman never tells.” 

Laurens gave him a flat, unimpressed look and started counting on his fingers. “Lafayette, obviously. I was there when you—”

Hamilton yanked Laurens by the forearm and clamped his free hand over his mouth. Laurens braced his hands on the desk and shot his friend an aggravated look. Hamilton gingerly removed his hand. 

“Then there was André—” Laurens jerked his head to the side to avoid Hamilton’s attempt to silence him again. “You never told me, but it was fairly obvious—”

After some scrabbling, Hamilton managed to pin Laurens’ wrists with one hand and clamp his other back over Laurens’ mouth. 

Laurens cheeks were flushed and his eyes shone bright. He steadily returned Hamilton’s gaze and kissed his palm. 

Hamilton blushed and released him. 

Laurens laughed, slightly out of breath. “Are you _sure_ I’m not in there?” 

“Positive. Besides, it was so long ago, I can scarcely recall it.” 

“ _What?_ ” Laurens grinned at him in disbelief. “Liar.” 

Hamilton put a hand to his chest. “I never!” 

Laurens skated his fingers up the back of Hamilton’s neck and tangled them in his hair, pulling him closer. “What do you mean you don’t remember?”

A shiver went up Hamilton’s spine. 

“You’re telling me you don’t remember the first time? When the three of us were stuck in that tiny, stifling room in the summer? We’d sneak outside and lay on the lawn to stargaze. Lafayette had more to drink that both of us put together that night, he fell asleep early. And we—” Laurens leaned in closer “—stayed up ’til dawn.”

“I—”

Laurens’ voice lowered. “Is your memory failing in your advanced age? Do you need to be reminded?” 

Hamilton gulped. “Laurens.”

“Did you forget the time you wrote to me, telling me that you loved me and wanted to prove it to me? In actions, not words?” 

Hamilton avoided his gaze. 

“Would reading it help? I kept all your letters.”

Hamilton flushed. “I thought I wrote too much.”

“To me? Never.” Laurens chuckled. “You went on about how I should find you a wife while I was away. Sent me a detailed list of all the things you had to offer—then at the end, said you didn’t want one after all. But teased that you had some other purpose for telling me those things.” 

Laurens leaned in close and spoke softly in his ear. “And we were apart, for months and months. But then we finally met again and at last I understood the nature of your teasing. And you did prove you love for me in actions, not words. Didn’t you.”

Hamilton grabbed the back of his head and kissed him. “I remember, of course I remember.”

“Show me you remember.” 

Hamilton drew a shaky breath and released him. Laurens stared in confusion as he walked to the door. But Hamilton simply shut it, locked it, and walked back to Laurens with a familiar gleam in his eye. 

 

 

 

Downstairs, Elizabeth had finally managed to get all the children ready and their luggage out the door. “Now, wait a moment before getting in the the carriage. I want your father to have a chance to say goodbye to you before our trip to Grandfather’s.” 

“Alexander!” she shouted up the stairwell. “Are you coming?”

After a pause, a harried-sounding “Nearly!” travelled down from his study. 

A moment later, she heard footsteps, but was John Laurens walking down the stairs. 

“Elizabeth, I’m so sorry your uncouth husband asked me to visit today. I never would have stopped by had I known how busy you’d be.” 

“Oh, I’m sure Alexander forgot the date. It’s not your fault, dear.” 

Laurens pitched his voice to carry. “You’re an inattentive husband, Alex.” 

Hamilton leaned over the balcony, hair in disarray, clothes rumpled. 

“Laurens. We didn’t have a chance to conclude our intercourse.” 

“I have a meeting to get to Alex, I’m sure you can finish up without me.” 

“ _You’re_ an inattentive little—”

Laurens was already turning to kiss Elizabeth on the cheek. “Send my regards to your father for me.” 

“I will.” Elizabeth glanced up the stairs at her disheveled husband. “Look in on him once in a while, won’t you John, dear? He works too hard when left to his own devices. Forgets to eat; doesn’t sleep.” 

Laurens chuckled. “Sounds like he hasn’t changed a bit. I can’t remember how many times I had to wrestle him into bed to keep him from writing the whole night.”

“Now, Laurens, you’re going to give my wife the wrong idea about the nature of our relationship.” 

Elizabeth ignored him. “Please look after him, John, he needs a keeper.”

“Don’t I know it.” 

Laurens reviewed his plans for the week as he left the townhouse. He’d visit soon. Elizabeth was right about her husband—he needed at _least_ one keeper at all times. 

**Author's Note:**

> I love John Laurens. I love Alexander Hamilton. I love John Laurens and Alexander Hamilton together. I like to think about happy, mushy, cute, funny things that may have happened had John lived. 
> 
> I hope I made you laugh and go "aww"; hope you enjoyed reading.
> 
> P.S.: Insert "he will never be satisfied" joke here, am I right? Heh.


End file.
